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Jeffrey’s eyes go wide. “Oh fuck. You landed yourself a TILF?”

“What’s a TILF?” I ask, but I’m pretty sure I can figure out the definition.

“Teacher I’d like to fuck,” Nick replies with a bounce of his eyebrows. “And believe me, she makes all of those fantasies come true.”

Jeffrey practically drools on the table. “Does she have a hot friend? Maybe a math teacher that will spank me every time I miss one of my multiplication table problems? I might just get them wrong on purpose if that’s the case…”

“I’ll ask her the next time we talk,” Nick replies arrogantly.

“Jesus Christ, what did I get myself into this evening?” I mumble loud enough for both of them to hear as I drain nearly half of my beer just as the waitress comes by with Damien and Jeffrey’s. “I’ll have another, please,” I tell her, lifting my glass. She nods and walks away again.

“Oh lighten up, dude.” Nick smacks my shoulder, almost making me choke. “See, this is why you need to start dating.”

“Fuck no. Seriously, Nick, dating is the last thing on my mind.”

“Why? I’m not saying get married again to the first girl you talk to. But you need to let out some pent-up energy, sow some wild oats like I said.”

“I’m not sowing any oats. I just moved away from the city I’ve been living in for years, started a new job, and my son is about to start school. I don’t have time for women.”

“Come on. You seriously don’t even want to try dating again? I mean, not right this second, but you don’t want to find a hot teacher to play out some fantasies with?” He waggles his eyebrows. “I’m telling you…life changing,” he whispers with a cheesy grin on his lips.

“Nope. I’m done with that shit. From now on, it’s just my hand and me.” I hold up my hand just as one of the servers walks by, cringing. “Fuck.”

The boys all chuckle. “Well, I feel sorry for your dick then.”

“Don’t be. I’ve invested in some very expensive lotion.”

All of us share another good laugh, and the conversation moves on to other topics. I know my brain doesn’t want the complications of a relationship, but my body can only focus on the one woman it seems to be craving to satisfy my growing itch. And no amount of lotion and jacking off seems to be helping the itch to go away. I sincerely hope that’s not an omen to the stupid decisions I feel I’d be willing to make just to know what it is like to be with Amelia. But part of me doesn’t think that will be an issue anyway. She doesn’t happen to be a huge fan of mine currently, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon unless I try to smooth things over.

And it looks like I need to—for my friendship with Nick, for my own sanity, and so I can feel better about my behavior. Maybe then too, once we stop fighting, I won’t want her as much. That fire and tension will be gone. That’s probably what’s fueling my desire for her. And if I squash that, Amelia will no longer be a problem.

Sounds like a plan. And now I know exactly what I need to do come Monday morning.

* * *

“I’m scared, Daddy.” Oliver wraps his arms around my legs as we stand in front of the school, waiting for the gates to open. It’s his first day of kindergarten, and I’m feeling all kinds of mixed emotions.

“It’s okay to be a little scared. This is new, but it’s also exciting. And Grandma will be here at the end of the day to pick you up.” I crouch down to his level, holding his hands in mine now. “Plus, I can’t wait to hear all about your day later tonight. We’ll make spaghetti for dinner too.”

“Spaghetti is my favorite,” he says with a slight smile on his lips now.

“I know.” Winking at him, I stand once more just as the gates are unlocked. “This is going to be a new adventure for you, kid. You’re going to learn so much.”

“I like adventures.”

I rub his shoulder. “Good, because life is full of them.”

“Let me get a picture of you two before we go inside,” my mother declares, motioning us over to a tree nearby.

Oliver starts to bounce and wiggle as we move. “But the gates are open, Grandma. I don’t want to be late.” Judging by his enthusiasm now, I guess Oliver isn’t scared anymore.

“Just really quick, honey. You’ll want to remember this day later.”

I move toward the tree and stand proudly next to my son. For years I envisioned this moment a lot differently, mostly because I anticipated Monica being here. But now, I know things are better this way. Standing tall, I let my mom take as many pictures as she wants and immediately ask her to send them to my phone.

After pictures are done, and Oliver is practically chomping at the bit, my mother and I walk Oliver into his school and meet his teacher. His classroom is colorful and full of information ready for him to absorb. Tables with tiny chairs are spaced out inside the room, a large blue rug is situated in front of a rocking chair in the corner, and the walls are covered with posters and bulletin boards that span every color of the rainbow.

After Oliver chooses his seat, I bend down in front of him. “Be kind to your classmates and pay attention today, Ollie,” I tell my son as I hug him goodbye.

“You too, Daddy. Go make money and pay bills.” He releases me and then picks up his crayon to finish his coloring page.

A few years ago, when I would drop him off at daycare, he used to ask me why I had to leave, and I would always tell him that I had to go make money so I could pay our bills. After that, he would use that as our parting words when we said goodbye. It’s been months since he’s uttered those words, but hearing them today almost brings a tear to my eye. It’s the perfect reminder of how fast he’s growing and how all of the hard work and choices I’m making are ultimately for him.

As I drive to my office, knowing I would be arriving late today, I think about what a hypocrite I sounded like this morning though. I literally told my kid to be kind to others, and here I’ve been acting like a dick to Amelia. All weekend I stewed on how I’ve behaved toward her and how now her perception of me is skewed.

I don’t like feeling threatened, and given all of the other changes going on in my life lately, I’m beginning to think I’ve been taking out my insecurities and frustrations on her. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a little fun watching her reactions to me, too, but I know that is not the type of dynamic I want to maintain with her, so I need to smooth things over today.

My plan is to go over around lunchtime when I know she won’t have a client. I just hope she lets me into her office after her threat last week.

When I exit my car, I pull up the photo of Oliver and me from this morning on my phone and study it as I walk up to the building, smiling from ear to ear as I look at my boy. Pride rushes through me at how resilient he is, how kind and energetic and loving he is despite Monica’s absence. At least I know at the end of the day that I’m doing something right by him. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life and still manage to add to the list on a daily basis, but there’s nothing I’ve done in my life that I have more pride in than raising him well up to this point.

“Well, there’s a sight I’ve never seen before.”

I lift my head to find Amelia walking toward me, carrying a few bags over her shoulder and pushing her glasses up her nose. She’s wearing a light-blue dress that makes her hair appear brighter and does nothing to hide her perfect body, but her face shines with mischief.

I stop in my steps, waiting for her to arrive in front of me. “And what sight would that be?”

“A genuine smile on your lips. And with the way you were looking at your phone?” She shakes her head. “I’m guessing you either got a dirty text from your latest flavor of the week or the latest paycheck from the last marriage you dissolved.”

The guy who had every intention of making things right with her ten minutes ago says that I should correct her and put her in her place. But that asshole guy that enjoys making her flustered? He steps in front at this moment and takes the lead. “I only smile like that when I feel my client gets what he or she deserves. And how do you know that I’m not tickled pink because one of your clients has already stopped by my office and asked for a consultation?”

The pleased smirk on her face instantly disappears. “What you deserve is a root canal and to step on a Lego for helping ruin the sanctity of marriage.”

I throw my head back in laughter. “Believe me, stepping on a Lego is a horrible experience I wouldn’t even wish on my worst enemy. But I’m honored that you feel I’m yours.”

Taking a step toward me, she hikes her bags up higher on her shoulder. “You are the enemy, Ethan Fuller. And I’m going to love watching you get what you deserve.” She arches her brow and then spins on her heels, heading right toward her office and leaving me lusting after her.

God, I want to fuck her and show her how crazy she makes me. Why does one of the most beautiful women I’ve seen in ages have to be someone that stands for the exact opposite of what I do for a living, and why does she have to be my friend’s sister?

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